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Nine More Days

May 18, 2009

Nine more days of trying to get him to believe he is smarter than his circumstances…

Nine more days of telling myself I can be nice to her mother, she’s doesn’t define my teaching…

Nine more days of discussing the pros and cons of nose rings with a twelve-year-old…

Nine more days of laughing when I see her flirt with every boy in the class, her shell now ripped off…

Nine more days of wondering if I’ve really helped him feel smart this year, when every year “since kindygarten”, he’s felt stupid…

Nine more days of wishing she had one more year at our school, hating that she’s moving away, the tension she carries in her small shoulders…

Nine more days of seeing him push his glasses up on his nose, raise his hand, and speak full of confidence and vulnerability all at once…

Nine more days of teaching middle school.

Then I’ll pack up the few shelves still left with books, load a few boxes in my van, and leave a little bit of my heart with this class.

Come quickly, Summer, but not too fast…

I still have nine more days with my students.

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